A Mouse In The War Room!
by The Mouse Avenger
Summary: General Buck Turgidson stumbles upon a mouse in his attic, & decides to take care of him, much to the annoyance of his girlfriend...& certain acquaintances of his. Read & review, but no flames, please!
1. Buck's Discovery

**A MOUSE IN THE WAR ROOM!**

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a short, 3-part fanfiction piece for the "_Dr. Strangelove_" fandom, featuring General Buck Turgidson, Miss Scott, the War Room cast, & a very surprising (but nonetheless very adorable) guest character—the eponymous mouse of our story.

Buck Turgidson, Miss Scott, & all other characters, elements, & properties belonging to "_Dr. Strangelove_" © Stanley Kubrick & Columbia Pictures. I only claim ownership to the story itself, the mouse, & my invented first name for Miss Scott.

When you're finished reading the story, feel free to leave a review. I'll take anything from simple comments to constructive criticism, as long as they're not flames or written in a mean, rude, or overly-harsh manner.

And now that my copyright-&-disclaimer is finished, let the fanfiction begin! Happy reading!

* * *

Part 1:

Buck's Discovery

The streets of Washington, D.C., were dotted with puddles—pint-sized lakes that rippled from the impact of the raindrops that fell from the stormy September skies. It was a Saturday, & many of the people who inhabited the United States' capital city were indoors—mainly to get out of the rain, but also because they had something (or nothing) to do, be it at the grocery store, the old tavern 'round the corner, the business office, or home, sweet home...

At one of the houses in a quiet suburb of Washington, D.C., General Buckley Turgidson—we'll refer to him from now on by his nickname, Buck—& his secretary / live-in lady-friend (one Miss Elaine Scott by name) were spending their time indoors by doing some fall-cleaning. They'd already cleaned up the bedroom, washroom, & kitchen areas, put away the dishes & silverware, vacuumed the floors, done the laundry, put all their recently-washed clothes in the closets & drawers, thrown away any stray garbage, & made the beds; now, they were dusting the newly-tidied-up living room, before they moved on to the last stage of cleaning (which was to take place in the attic).

Well, actually, Miss Scott was doing all of the dusting. Buck had been given an opportunity to rest & relax for a few minutes, providing him with a much-needed break after working nonstop for all morning & most of the afternoon. The only problem Buck had to face now was his constant sneezing & sniffling, brought on by his allergic reaction to the clouds of dust that flew up in the wake of Miss Scott's feather-duster as it flitted & fluttered back & forth, to & fro, in every nook & cranny of the living room.

"Dog-gonnit..."—Buck took a moment to suppress a sneeze with his hankie-covered hand, then sniffled as he stuffed the tissue back into his shirt-front pocket—"...Elaine, could you be a little more careful with the feather-duster? It's setting off my allergies."

"Sorry, Bucky," Miss Scott apologized, continuing to dust the room (but less forcefully). "I'll try to be gentle."

"Thanks, honey," Buck told Miss Scott with a smile (& another sneeze). "That really means a lot to me."

Miss Scott returned the smile at Buck, before going back to dusting the room. This time, she kept going until she was finished, & after she put the feather-duster away, she swept the extra dust off her hands by wiping them over the apron covering the hem of her lilac chiffon dress. Then, Miss Scott turned toward the pulled-down ladder leading up to the open door of Buck's attic, but not without motioning for her boyfriend to come forward.

"I guess it's time for the general to return to the front & assume his duties?" Buck asked jokingly, getting up from the living-room couch & going over to the foot of the ladder.

"I'm afraid so, Bucky-boo," Miss Scott said with a playful look, watching Buck climb up the ladder, until he crawled through the doorway & entered the attic. Getting onto his hands & knees, Buck began looking around for trash & junk to pick up, so that it would be easier for Miss Scott to sweep the attic without falling & tripping over something.

At one point, during his search, Buck pushed aside a small cardboard box to check for garbage behind it...but as he did so, he could've _sworn_ he'd heard a noise—something like a high-pitched squeak, maybe? Curious to hear the sound again, Buck moved the box to its original position, then pushed it back aside--& heard the squeaking noise once more.

"Well," Buck muttered to himself, "idn't that the darndest thing...?" Buck pushed the box a third time (but in the _opposite_ direction), then took a look at the now-empty space where the box had been. His eyebrows flew up in surprise when he got his first glimpse at what had been making all the squeaking...

Lying on the dusty floorboards, curled up in a ball, was a tiny, little mouse. The unfortunate rodent, who was covered in soft gray fur from head to toe, was soaking-wet (he had probably spent a long time out in the rain, before sneaking his way into the attic), & shivering like crazy—probably just as much out of fright, as he was out of coldness. (And to add to his troubles, the mouse looked like he had a sprained left paw, which he grasped at the wrist with his right hand to keep it in place, so his injury wouldn't get worse than it already was.) Poor, tiny, timorous mouse! Buck couldn't help but feel just a bit sorry for him...

Slowly, carefully, Buck extended a hand out towards the mouse, who, upon seeing it, tightened up into a defensive fetal position, shaking & squeaking even _more_ than he was just a few seconds earlier. Undaunted & undeterred, Buck gingerly let his hand down to rest against the mouse, who gradually began to calm down when he felt Buck petting him & rubbing his hand back & forth over his body. "There, there, little mousie," Buck said to the mouse in a gentle, reassuring tone. "I'm not gonna hurt you..." When the mouse had finally relaxed, Buck carefully scooped him up into the palm of his hand, which he then brought up in front of his eyes, so he could get a closer look at the creature. As Buck started gazing over the mouse, he thought to himself, _You know, that little mouse is kinda cute..._

Unbeknownst to Buck or the mouse, however, Miss Scott was climbing up the ladder & into the attic, before going over to Buck, who was down on one knee, looking at something he was holding (though what that something was, she wasn't exactly sure). "Bucky," Miss Scott asked as she slowly approached her boyfriend, "what's gotten your attention all of a sudden?"

Buck didn't say anything in reply, but turned to face Miss Scott...& showed her the mouse resting in his palms. Miss Scott's reaction was not too favorable: "_AHHHH!!!!!_"

Frightened out of her wits, Miss Scott took a tumble backwards & landed bum-first on the floor, before scooting back as far away from the mouse as she could...until her back hit against a stack of cardboard boxes, & she could go no further. Miss Scott continued to shriek in alarm, however, shaking uncontrollably & flailing her arms & legs about in a wild panic.

"Shhh, Elaine," Buck directed, putting a finger to his lips. Miss Scott continued to freak out, though, & the little mouse became so frightened, he let out a squeak & dove head-first into Buck's shirt-breast pocket, only daring to peel out after a few seconds of hiding. He continued to tremor & tremble, however, while he watched Miss Scott screaming like a banshee & making a scene.

Buck went over to Miss Scott & gently held her hand in his, stroking her shoulder-length brown hair as he shushed her & said, "Elaine, honey, not so loud! You'll frighten the mouse!"

"_You found a __mouse__ in the attic?!_" Miss Scott yelled, unable to control the volume of her voice. "_Where? __Where?!_" She began turning her head & looking about in different directions, her eyes wide with fear.

"Over there," Buck said as he pointed to the place where he had first seen the mouse.

"Then, throw it outside!" Miss Scott pleaded. "Or poison it! Or call the exterminator! _Just get rid of it, Bucky!_" She took off one of the lilac high-heel shoes that went with her dress, & threw it across the room in the hopes of scaring the mouse. It worked...but the mouse didn't scurry _out_ of Buck's pocket—he ducked right back _in!_

"Aw, Elaine," Buck complained, "you scared him again!"

"Good!" Miss Scott blurted, still distraught over what she had just seen. "And I hope he never comes back!"

"But, honey," Buck beseeched his girlfriend, "just give me a minute to explain..."

Upon hearing this, Miss Scott began to calm down, & looked at Buck with a quizzical stare. "Explain what?" she asked, letting her arms & hands float down to rest on the floor by her side.

Buck looked down for a second as he saw the mouse timidly crawling out of his shirt-pocket & climbing down into his open hand, before bringing said hand closer to Miss Scott's face, so she could look at the mouse more closely. "I was looking for trash to pick up off the floor, & I found this little guy lying beside a box," Buck told Miss Scott as he showed her the mouse. "Poor mouse was so miserable...all alone, & scared, & cold, & wet, & naked..."

"All mice are naked, Buck," Miss Scott stated flatly.

"Well," Buck said with a bashful chuckle, "you know..." He cleared his throat, & continued, "Anyway, he's got a sprained wrist, & I think he should stay somewhere safe until it heals, & then, he can go about freely again."

"And where would that someplace be?" asked Miss Scott.

"I could keep him here," Buck replied. "Maybe, in a shoebox, or something..."

Miss Scott was not too pleased with the idea of a mouse living with her (& her boyfriend) at their house. "No!" she refused. "Absolutely not!" She stomped her bare foot down, then crossed her arms over her chest & tilted her head up (with closed eyes) in firm decisiveness.

"Come on, Elaine," Buck begged, "can't you show a little compassion? Don't you feel sorry for that cute little mouse...with that little pink nose...& those little pink ears...& that long pink tail...& those big brown eyes?"

Miss Scott opened her own eyes, then took a long, hard look at the mouse resting in Buck's hand, staring up at her with those big, beady, brown peepers of his, & a hopeful smile on his face...Eventually, the power of cute animal charm won Miss Scott over, & with a bit of hesitancy, she finally relented. "Well...all right, Bucky. I guess he can stay." Buck & the mouse both smiled at one another, then at Miss Scott, who got up off the floor & made her way to the attic door, but before she began climbing down the ladder, she told Buck, "But the mouse has to leave as soon as his wrist is healed!"

"Don't worry, Elaine," Buck assured Miss Scott, still smiling. "By the time he gets better, he'll be out of here faster than you can say, 'Glockenspiel'!"

_**End Of Part 1**_


	2. Mouse In The House

**A MOUSE IN THE WAR ROOM!**

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a short, 3-part fanfiction piece for the "_Dr. Strangelove_" fandom, featuring General Buck Turgidson, Miss Scott, the War Room cast, & a very surprising (but nonetheless very adorable) guest character—the eponymous mouse of our story.

Buck Turgidson, Miss Scott, & all other characters, elements, & properties belonging to "_Dr. Strangelove_" © Stanley Kubrick & Columbia Pictures. I only claim ownership to the story itself, the mouse, & my invented first name for Miss Scott.

When you're finished reading the story, feel free to leave a review. I'll take anything from simple comments to constructive criticism, as long as they're not flames or written in a mean, rude, or overly-harsh manner.

And now that my copyright-&-disclaimer is finished, let the fanfiction begin! Happy reading!

* * *

Part 2:

Mouse In The House

It had only been four days since Buck decided to take care of the little mouse he had found in his attic, & by now, he had not only gotten used to the animal's presence, but he was also doing his best to make sure that his furry patient was taken good care of during his stay at "Turgidson Hospital". The mouse spent most of the day resting in a makeshift sleeping bag (made out of one of Buck's socks), while Buck occasionally fed him pieces of cheese & pieces of leftovers from his own plate. Whenever he had spare time on his hands, Buck would stay by the mouse's side, tenderly watching over him; as the human general kept vigil over the poor critter in his care, he would sometimes pet him on the head with his fingertip to make him feel more calm. Gradually, the mouse's wrist began to heal, but it would be a few more weeks before he was completely cured; however, he was feeling well to try & crawl out of his sleeping-sock. At this point, Buck felt that it was probably safe for the mouse to try & start doing different activities now.

On the fifth day of the mouse's stay at Buck's house, "Doctor" Turgidson began to make several changes to the "hospital" schedule, & these changes soon became a permanent part of his patient's routine. In the morning, at around 8:00, Buck watched the mouse wake up, then fed him his breakfast (which consisted of a slice of cheese & some of the remnants of Buck's morning meal). After that, Buck helped the mouse out of his sock, before going to the kitchen & "borrowing" one of Miss Scott's favorite porcelain teacups. Then, Buck filled the teacup with hot water from the kitchen sink (& even squirted in a small bit of scented dish soap to add a generous layer of bubbles); after placing the mouse's makeshift bathtub down on the counter, Buck carefully took the mouse into his hands, & helped him get settled into the bath. The mouse let out a surprised squeak when he first felt the heat of the water that was surrounding him, but within a few minutes, he got used to the warmth, & started to relax with a sigh of satisfaction.

"By the time you're finished with your bath," Buck told the mouse with a big smile, "I'm sure you'll be feeling a lot better!" The mouse returned the smile as he leaned back comfortably in his little "tub", & while the animal lingered in his state of relaxation, Buck put some soap onto his hands, then reached over to gingerly lather the cleansing foam all over the mouse's fur, along with the skin underneath it. For the next few minutes, the mouse's bath continued peacefully, until, at one point, Buck & the mouse were both startled out of their wits when they heard Miss Scott shouting to them from across the room. They both looked up to find her standing in the threshold of the kitchen doorway, dressed in the pink blouse & mint-green skirt she had put on this morning.

"Buck, what on Earth are you doing?" the secretary demanded with an irritated glower. "I've told you not to mess around with those good teacups! They belonged to my grandmother, & they're a priceless family heirloom!"

"I-I'm sorry, honey," Buck said with a shameful frown. "I know I should've asked you first, but it was kind of...an emergency."

"What 'emergency'," Miss Scott asked as she angrily stomped over to approach Buck at the kitchen counter, "could there possibly be to give you a reason to..." Then, she suddenly stopped in her tracks, gasping in terror as her eyes became wide as saucers. "Th-that _mouse__,_" Miss Scott blurted in shock, "is bathing..._in my teacup!!!_" She began to hyperventilate, becoming increasingly hysterical as she continued to blurt out, "Oh, my God! That disgusting little creature is taking a bath in my teacup! My nice teacup! Who knows what kind of germs & filth he could be putting in it?! Oh, I don't know how many times I'll have to wash the cup, before I can get the stains out..."

"Elaine," Buck protested as he gestured to the mouse, "he's not filthy anymore. I just cleaned him up."

"Yes," Miss Scott retorted, unable to control the volume of her voice. "You gave him a nice, hot bath..._in my prized teacup!_"

"I promise I'll wash it out when the mouse is finished," Buck promised, but Miss Scott would hear none of it. "No, no," she insisted, "don't even bother! It's probably too tainted to use anymore!" With a huff, Miss Scott stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door shut behind her. Stunned by the woman's behavior, Buck & the mouse both looked at one another in puzzlement...then gave a shrug of their shoulders, before Buck went back to bathing the mouse. When the mouse was all cleaned up, Buck took him out of the teacup, then gently dried him off with a linen dish-cloth; then, he emptied the contents of the used teacup into the sink, then made an effort to rinse the container out (several times in a row!) with plenty of dish soap & clean water. After placing the teacup in the dishwasher for good measure, Buck scooped the now-spotless mouse up into his hands, then carried him out of the kitchen, & into the small playroom on the second floor, where Miss Scott's nieces & nephews often went to play whenever they paid visits to "Aunt Elaine & Uncle Buck".

Upon entering the chamber, Buck took a seat on the floor, then placed the mouse down in front of him; the little rodent took a good look around the playroom, his eyes widening in fascination at all the fun things he saw scattered around him. The playroom was filled with all sorts of toys, games, dolls, & other playthings...& a number of them were just the right size for the little mouse to play with!

"See something that you like?" Buck asked the mouse with a smile & a merry twinkle in his eyes. The mouse didn't say anything for a few minutes, as he continued to look around the playroom, but then, he spotted something of interest, & turned to face Buck with an affirmative nod of his head, & a squeak. Then, he scampered over to a small tower of rainbow-colored rings (which was a favorite toy of Miss Scott's youngest niece), & Buck followed suit, crawling over to the mouse & the toy he had decided to check out. "You wanna play with that?" asked Buck, pointing to the Rainbow Rings with his forefinger. When the mouse nodded & squeaked "yes" again, Buck conceded, & brought the stacking tower closer to them, before taking the rainbow rings off of it, & setting them down on the floor.

"OK, now, watch this," Buck told the mouse as he carefully picked up the red ring, & placed it at the bottom of the tower. Then, at a snail's pace, he added the orange, yellow, green, & blue rings on top, before taking the tower, tipping it over, & making the rings fall to the floor once more. "Can you tell me where the red ring is?" Buck asked.

The mouse looked at the five rainbow rings, closely inspecting each one, & when he came upon the red ring, he took notice of its size & color, remembering that it had been the first one Buck had placed on the tower. The mouse gently poked at the red ring with the tip of his nose, & squeaked to indicate that he had found the requested object. Buck gave the mouse a word of praise, then picked up the red ring, which he put back on the tower. Much to Buck's surprise, the mouse was easily able to locate the orange, yellow, green, & blue rings in the order that was given to him, &—even more impressively—pushed each ring over to Buck once he had found it. When the tower of rainbow rings was finally finished, the mouse gave a squeak & a proud smile at the sight of what he had helped to accomplish.

"Wow, little guy," Buck remarked in astonishment, "you seem to be feeling a lot better already!" With that, Buck put the stacking rings away, & turned to face the mouse again. "So, is there anything else that you wanna play with? We've got a few hours to kill before lunchtime."

The mouse took a look around the playroom, then scurried off to find another toy that caught his fancy; this time, he came back with a Rainbow Slinky, holding the end of it in his mouth. Buck then took the slinky from the mouse, & started performing several tricks with it, in order to entertain the mouse. He juggled it back & forth in his hands; he made it tumble down a "staircase" of picture books; he held one end of it in his hand, as he swung the rest around & around in a "hula-hooping" vortex of iridescent hues; he made it wiggle & jiggle about in a series of funny little "dances"; he maneuvered it across the floor, making it move like a snake; he sang a little ditty as he pushed & pulled the slinky in & out, holding both ends in his hands, while he played it like an accordion; he stretched it out, & beckoned for the mouse to crawl inside the makeshift tunnel, so he could try to find his way back out (an activity he _really_ liked doing!).

Buck & the mouse both enjoyed playing with the Rainbow Slinky for several minutes, & when they had finally put it away, the mouse went off to retrieve another toy, before returning to Buck with a big bag of marbles. When the general saw what the mouse wanted to play with now, his eyes lit up, & his face formed a look of nostalgic reverie. "Man, I haven't played a game of marbles in who-knows-how long!" Buck said, more to himself than to the mouse. "This brings back a lot of fond memories for me..." Buck untied the string that kept the bag of marbles closed, then carefully emptied the small sack, watching its contents spill out onto the floor. "This is gonna be fun, little mouse!" Buck said excitedly as he sorted out all the marbles, preparing himself & his new friend for what they felt was going to be a very delightful game, indeed.

Just before the beginning of the marbles match, Buck got out a blank piece of paper, on which he used a crayon to draw a big red circle that would serve as their playing boundary. Then, Buck took the time to show the mouse the rules of the game, & also explained to him what each of the different marbles looked like, & how they were meant to be used. The mouse was quick to absorb all of this information into his brain, & when the game started, he had no trouble remembering what Buck had told him. With his newly-gained knowledge in mind, the mouse skillfully used his marbles (maneuvered by the tip of his nose) to knock out any of Buck's aggies, pearls, oilies, turtles, catseyes, oxbloods, & other marbles he could hit. As it turns out, the mouse didn't win the game, but Buck didn't let the joy of his victory go to his head.

"Don't worry, little mouse," Buck said as he stroked the mouse on the top of his head with his forefinger. "You still did a great job." The mouse looked up at Buck with a smile, which the general returned, before scooping up all the marbles, & putting them back into the bag. Then, Buck looked down at the mouse & asked, "Well, what do you want to play with now?"

The mouse squeaked in response, but this time, he didn't go off to fetch one of the toys in the playroom. Instead, he crawled onto Buck's shoe...then ran all the way up through his trousers leg, until he found his way into Buck's shirt. Before he knew it, Buck found himself laughing hysterically as he felt the mouse scurrying around all over his body, tickling him like crazy. Soon, Buck was rolling around on the floor in uncontrollable mirth & merriment, clutching at his sides as his frame was wracked with the force of his laughter. Even when the mouse stopped tickling Buck & finally found his way out of his shirt, he found his caretaker still laughing, unable to stop himself...until, after several minutes, Buck's laughter finally subsided, & he gently sighed for breath as he sat up & picked the mouse up into his hands.

"Gee, hanging out with you turned out to be a _lot_ more fun than I originally thought it would be!" Buck said to the mouse as he patted him on the head with the tip of his index finger once more. "You know, I really like having you around the house! You're a real swell guy to hang out with!"

The mouse squeaked again, smiling even more widely at Buck, as he gave the general an affectionate cuddle by nuzzling his cheek; then, Buck set the mouse back down on the floor, & after that, they went back to playing with more toys, which they eagerly enjoyed doing until it was time to put the playthings away & come downstairs for lunch. Much to Buck's delight, Miss Scott had prepared his favorite meal—steak, broccoli, & home-cooked French fries (with plenty of ketchup on the side for dunking). Just as Buck tied a napkin around his neck, picked up some silverware, & took a seat at the table, however, Miss Scott told him sternly, "Mouse out of the shirt pocket, Bucky! Mice do not eat at the dinner table."

"I think," Buck retorted with a mild glower, "that a mouse should be allowed to eat wherever he wants, Elaine."

"Not in this house," Miss Scott said, glaring at her boyfriend (& his tiny friend) with her hands on her hips. "As long as he's living under my roof, he's going to eat in the kitchen pantry, like mice are supposed to do."

"Actually, honey, the mouse is living under _my_ roof," Buck snapped, "& as owner of this house, I say the mouse eats at the table."

"Fine," Miss Scott said, untying the strings of her apron & letting it fall to the floor as she started walking out of the dining room. "Then I won't be joining you for lunch!" Miss Scott only came back for a few seconds to retrieve the lunch plate she had forgotten to remove from the table, & with a haughty scoff & a tilt of her nose in the air, she exited, leaving Buck to eat his lunch in silent solitude (of course, the mouse was content to help himself to leftover bits of Buck's steak, fries, & broccoli, sans ketchup—he didn't care much for the taste of it).

Once he had finished eating, Buck put the mouse back into his shirt-breast pocket, & went upstairs to his room, where Miss Scott was sitting on the mattress of her boyfriend's bed, just finishing up her own lunch. When she saw the mouse in Buck's pocket, the secretary did not resist glaring in the animal's direction, but in her usually-calm voice, she took a piece of paper off of Buck's nightstand, & began to read aloud from it, listing the errands that she needed the general to go on while she was attending today's session of her best friend's book club. There weren't too many errands to do, Buck learned—turning in a book at the library, buying a bouquet of roses from the florist, mailing a couple of letters at the post-office, shopping for a few groceries at the supermarket—& it was nothing he couldn't take care of in an hour or less. So, after putting on his Air Force jacket over his regular clothing (with the mouse safely tucked away into the breast-pocket of said jacket), & taking an extra moment to shine his shoes, Buck went out (with list, letters, & library book in hand) to go on the errands for Miss Scott.

It didn't take too long for Buck to check in the library book, buy the requested bouquet of roses, & mail the two letters, & as soon as he had done all that, he went off to the nearest Piggly-Wiggly store to begin grocery-shopping. While the mouse curiously (but ever-so-cautiously) peeped out from his hiding place, Buck leisurely pushed his cart through all the aisles of the supermarket, occasionally stopping to briefly chat with a friend or neighbor that he encountered during his travels, before continuing on his way (& returning words of greeting to whoever gave a salute & said to him, "Good afternoon, General Turgidson!"). Buck had no trouble finding the groceries on Miss Scott's list, & as soon as he had gotten a few of each item, he started to head for the check-out counter...but, at one point, he stopped in the doll section of the toy aisle, wanting to see what was in there (for curiosity's sake).

Here, little packages of doll outfits & accessories were to be found across every square-inch of the section, & as he looked around at all the items, Buck couldn't help but think to himself that a few of the miniature clothes & baubles would make great additions to the dollhouse that one of Miss Scott's nieces owned. Deciding that said niece would probably like a few of these tiny trappings to add to her prized playset, Buck took a few of the outfit & accessory packages, & put them into the grocery cart. Just before he could make his way out, however, Buck stopped & turned his gaze back to the stuff on the shelves, as the mouse squeaked with interest & pointed to another one of the packages of doll-sized goodies. This particular package contained an assortment of clothing articles that you would expect a grown male doll to wear—a white tuxedo jacket with long matching trousers & matching dress-shoes, a small set of white shirt-sleeves, a pair of black faux-leather gloves, a long black necktie, a white top-hat, a pair of tiny black sunglasses, & a black cane with a faux-gold ball & tip—& as he looked at the package, Buck also noticed two separate ones on either side of it; one featured a doll-sized wheelchair, while another one contained an assortment of little wigs (including a curly, pompadour-looking mass of light-brown hair). Buck took all three of the recently-discovered packages, & placed them with the items in the grocery cart; for reasons that could only be known to him (& probably the mouse), he intended to put those doll accessories to good use...

* * *

About an hour later, Miss Scott had returned home from her book-club meeting, & she was now at her desk in her personal office, placing the table-top telephone back down in its cradle; she had just finished taking a very important call for Buck, & in a few seconds, she would be going off to tell her boyfriend about the message he had received. As she exited the office & walked into the living room, where Buck was supposed to be, Miss Scott said, "Bucky, I just got a call from your mother. She said that your aunt Suzie was coming over in two weeks to—" Suddenly, Miss Scott cut herself off in mid-sentence when she took a look to her right...& noticed a long trail of tiny tracks (marked with washable black fingerpaint) going upward across one of the living-room walls.

"Why are there paw-prints & shoe-prints all over the wall?!" Miss Scott demanded. After switching her gaze in another direction, she soon got her answer. She was shocked—& irritated—to see Buck kneeling down in front of the wall on the opposite side of the room; he was holding the mouse in his hands, moving his little hands & feet to make him crawl up the wall like a certain superhero. All the while, he sang a little ditty...

_**Spider-mouse, spider-mouse,  
**__**Does whatever a spider-mouse does...  
**__**Can he swing from a web?  
**__**No, he can't, 'cause he's a mouse...**_

"Buckley George Harmon Turgidson," Miss Scott snapped as she marched over to her boyfriend & his pet, "you are going to clean those prints off the wall before bedtime tonight!" When Miss Scott got close enough to Buck & the mouse, she gasped in even greater shock when she saw what Buck had done to the critter. "Buck," Miss Scott asked angrily, "is that mouse wearing the business suit I made for my little niece's dollhouse?!"

"No, no," Buck said between chuckles as he shook his head, before pulling the mouse off of the wall & showing him to Miss Scott. "I found this with some of the packets of doll accessories I bought for Sally at the grocery store, & I thought that it would make a cute outfit for the mouse to wear." Upon taking a closer look, Miss Scott saw that the mouse was dressed in a tiny tuxedo jacket with matching trousers & shoes (all of which were coated in dried-up black fingerpaint), along with white shirt-sleeves, a black necktie, & a miniature pair of black sunglasses; his right paw was covered in a black glove (made of faux leather), & his head was covered with what appeared to be a curly, light-brown doll's wig. Resting on the floor, at Buck's feet, was a pint-sized wheelchair—which had also probably been purchased during that last errand.

"What's gotten into you, Bucky?" Miss Scott cried in exasperation. "Ever since you found that mouse in the attic, you've been acting weird, & I _don't_ mean in a good way!"

"Aw, Elaine, me & the mouse are just playing around!" Buck assured Miss Scott. "Having a little harmless fun, you know?"

"Buck, there's a fine, fine line between 'harmless fun' & utter zaniness!" Miss Scott declared. "If I didn't live with you at your house every single day, I would have thought that you've gone straight off your rocker!"

"Come on, Elaine," Buck retorted, "you shouldn't blow things out of proportion like that! I may have changed a _little_..."—he turned back to focus his attention on the mouse—"...but I'm not _totally_ different!" Buck then placed the dolled-up mouse in the little wheelchair, & began to push him around across the floor, humming wordless ditties & talking to himself in a fake German accent. Miss Scott was _certain_ by now that her boyfriend had completely lost his mind, or come awfully close to doing so.

"And you _still_ don't think you've completely changed after meeting that mouse?" Miss Scott asked sarcastically, placing her hands on her hips in irritation as she glared at Buck with a look of distaste.

"_Nein, mein liebe_..."—Buck quickly changed to his regular American accent—"...I mean, uh, no, honey, of course not!"

"I find that hard to believe," Miss Scott remarked flatly.

"_Trust__ me, _Elaine," Buck insisted, "I have _not_ lost my mind in any way, shape, or form. I _assure_ you, I'm _exactly_ the same man you know & love."

"Coming from the man who _insists_ on keeping an icky, disgusting mouse as a pet, not to mention clothing him, playing with him, bathing him in one of his girlfriend's good teacups, & carrying him around 24/7!"

"Well, Elaine, if you ask me, I think you should have more respect for our fellow living creatures!"

"I do...for cats, dogs, rabbits, & anything that doesn't have six or more legs, or live in a sewer!"

"Last time I checked, honey, _rats _were the ones who lived in sewers, _not mice!_"

Miss Scott tried to argue with Buck some more, but she soon got tired of pursuing the topic, & gave up. She started walking away, but as she headed back for her office, she called out to Buck, "That mouse is causing nothing but trouble for you & me...Sooner or later, Buck, & whether you like it or not, your little 'pet' is going to have to be evicted from the Turgidson household!"

Buck just glared askance at Miss Scott, before looking back down at the mouse, who was quickly taken up into the safety of his human friend's hand. Forming a smile on his face, Buck patted the mouse's head with his other hand, & said, "Don't worry, little mousie...Uncle Buck is gonna make sure that mean old Aunt Elaine doesn't throw you out for a _long_ while!" And Buck certainly intended to make good on his promise. Although he knew that he would eventually have to keep his end of the bargain he made with Miss Scott, Buck still wanted to let the mouse stay in his house for as long as possible...until he knew that his pint-sized pal was _absolutely ready_ to leave & find a new home.

* * *

That evening, after dinner, Buck went into the kitchen to put the dishes in the sink, then placed the mouse down on the counter, before reaching into the cabinet for one of Miss Scott's good teacups; the general knew his lady-friend was going to have his hide for it later, but it was the only object in the entire house that was the right size for a mouse's makeshift bathtub. Just as he did this morning, Buck filled the teacup with hot water & soap bubbles, then put it down & placed the mouse inside, before proceeding to wash him (this time, however, Buck used a toothbrush to scrape off soap from the bar, & rubbed said brush across the mouse's body, massaging the soap into his fur & skin). Thankfully, Buck was able to finish the task of cleaning the mouse without any intrusions or interruptions from Miss Scott...that is, until the mouse was dried off, & his caretaker was right in the middle of rinsing the teacup out in the sink! Buck somehow managed to keep from dropping the teacup in his hands when the kitchen door suddenly slammed open (sending the poor mouse running for cover), & a _very _ticked-off Miss Scott appeared in the threshold.

"_A-ha!_" Miss Scott exclaimed, glaring at Buck as she pointed an accusatory finger at him. "I see you using one of my good teacups for the mouse's bathtub again!"

"I know you find it very annoying, Elaine," Buck told Miss Scott, "but it's only temporary. Your teacups will be left _totally_ untouched, as soon as the mouse leaves the house."

"Well, it better be soon," Miss Scott demanded, "because I don't think I can stand that rodent's presence much longer!" With a sharp pivot of her heels, the secretary turned to exit the kitchen, but before she left, she turned to face Buck once more, & said, "And for the record, I really don't appreciate you using our dish-soap for bubble bath!" Then, she walked out, slamming the door shut behind her.

* * *

As if all of Buck's recent habits hadn't been getting on Miss Scott's nerves, she became even _more_ fed up with what Buck started doing with the mouse _at night!_ When dusk had arrived, Miss Scott came into the bedroom she shared with Buck; dressed in her nightgown & slippers, she was about to retire for the evening, but—much to her dismay—she found Buck (in his pinstriped pajamas, slippers, & robe) lying down on the mattress...with the mouse on his head. The _mouse_ was resting on Buck's head—just to the side of where she would be putting _her_ head! The very idea filled Miss Scott with dread & disgust, & she did not even try to keep this a secret from Buck.

"You're letting the mouse sleep with us in our bed?" Miss Scott complained to her boyfriend. "Oh, _Bucky_...I don't know if _I'll_ be able to sleep tonight!"

"I'm not letting him touch you, Elaine," Buck told Miss Scott with a playful smirk, but this revelation was not very comforting to his girlfriend, who sighed in frustration, & immediately got off the bed, before taking a spare blanket & pillow, which she held in her arms as she walked downstairs, in the hopes she would be able to sleep better (let alone, at all) on the living-room couch. When Miss Scott was gone, Buck looked up at the mouse with a cheerful smile, & the mouse returned the expression as he heard his human friend tell him, "Goodnight, little mouse." The mouse nodded & squeaked "goodnight" in reply, then closed his little brown eyes & curled up in a cozy ball on Buck's crew-cut brown hair, quickly falling fast asleep with the general as soon as the lights had been turned off.

Buck & the mouse slept peacefully through the night, dreaming ever-so-pleasantly as they slumbered, but at some point during the wee hours of the twilight, Miss Scott soon came back upstairs into the bedroom to try & go back to sleep, as her experiment with the couch had not ended successfully. The secretary shuddered silently when she saw the mouse resting on Buck's head...but, wanting desperately to get more of her much-needed forty winks, she pulled back the covers of the bed & lay down, trying to get comfortable enough to doze off again. As Miss Scott slowly sank back into slumber, she closed her violet eyes tightly, doing her best to ignore the nasty little creature that was napping right next to her, his furry little chest rising & falling with each breath that he took into his filthy little lungs...

* * *

Three more weeks passed after the fifth day of the mouse's stay at Buck's house, & already, the animal's wrist was just about healed. Every day had been pretty much the same for the mouse & his human caretaker—breakfast, morning bath, playtime, exercise, lunch, an occasional midday nap, any errands or other business that needed to be done, some afternoon playtime, dinnertime, evening bath, & bedtime—& in the time that he'd spent tending to the mouse & hanging out with him, Buck had quickly become attached to the wee fellow. He'd really begun to enjoy having the mouse around the house, as the animal was an additional source of company & comfort for Buck whenever he was feeling blue or bogged-down from his Air Force duties, & even though Buck still had Miss Scott to provide company & comfort for him, he thought that the house would somehow feel...a little _empty _without the mouse's presence...like whenever an old friend from the days of yore had come to stay at your house for a while, but when he left, his absence could be felt long after his departure.

Granted, the mouse was a new arrival into Buck's life, but the general had spent so much time bonding with him, that he considered him a dear friend...almost like a furry, four-legged nephew. Buck had no qualms about bringing the mouse with him on errands (albeit, kept safely-hidden in his jacket- or shirt-breast pocket), giving him baths in Miss Scott's nice teacups, tickling his tummy with his forefinger, giving him pieces of cheese (or samples from his dinner plate) to nibble on, letting him scurry around underneath his shirt until he made him laugh, or letting him rest on top of his head when they retired for the night...& when it would finally be time for the mouse to have recovered from his injury, Buck didn't think he could bring himself to send the cute little critter away...He liked him too much!

Unfortunately, Miss Scott did not look at the mouse from Buck's perspective. She considered the mouse to be a pest & a nuisance, & in spite of Buck's strengthening relationship with the tiny creature he had taken into his care, she was quick to express her disgust whenever she found the mouse doing something that displeased her, like playing hide-&-seek in her clothes drawer, or begging for a piece of her home-made desserts, or accidentally messing around with her makeup. How Buck could make friends with a creature like _that_ was beyond Miss Scott, & with each passing day, it was getting more & more difficult for her to put up with the mouse's presence. Finally, by the end of the fourth week, Miss Scott couldn't take it any longer.

In the middle of the afternoon on the 28th day of the mouse's stay, she confronted Buck (who was playing with the mouse in the upstairs playroom) & said to him, "Buck, that mouse's wrist has been healed since yesterday, & I thought we both agreed that he was to leave the house as soon as he was feeling better!"

"I know, Elaine," Buck said wistfully, "but..."—he sighed, & looked at the mouse with a fond, but sad, look in his eyes—"...I don't know if _I'm_ ready for him to leave yet. I really like having the mouse around, &..."

"That doesn't matter," Miss Scott said sternly. "A promise is a promise, Buck. Now, I want you to take the mouse outside, say 'goodbye' to him, & let him go free, or I'll call the exterminator & ask _him_ to get rid of the mouse for you...& I don't think you would like that, would you, Bucky?"

Buck was literally stunned speechless as he looked up at his girlfriend in petrified astonishment, taken aback at the sudden realization that the day he had dreaded for so long had finally arrived; when Buck tried to protest, all that came out was a feeble squeak & a heavy sigh of sorrow, & as his face formed a melancholy frown, he reluctantly took the mouse (who was now wearing the outfit & wig that Buck had bought for him all those days ago) into his hands, along with the toy wheelchair, & gently stuffed them into his shirt- & jacket-breast pockets (respectively), before getting up onto his feet & trudging out of the playroom.

Just before Buck could begin making his way down the second-floor corridor to the top of the stairway, the hallway telephone rang, & with a cry of "I'll get it!", Miss Scott ran to answer the phone. She briefly spoke with the person on the other line, before calling out loudly to Buck, "Honey, General Sam Stains from the Joint Chiefs wants to talk to you! It's a matter of some urgency!" Buck went to gently take the telephone from Miss Scott's hands, & after exchanging a few lines of discourse with General Stains, he finally said, "OK...Yeah, I'll be there in about 10 minutes. Tell the guys I'm on my way...OK. Bye, Stainsy." With that, Buck hung up the phone, & told Miss Scott, "I'm heading off to the War Room, sugar. President Muffley's holding a meeting with the Joint Chiefs Of Staff & the Cabinet about plans for a new military deterrent. I should be back in a few hours, so just take care of yourself while I'm gone...And don't call me unless it's an _absolute_ emergency, OK?"

"OK, Buck," Miss Scott replied. "But remember to get rid of that mouse before you..."

"I know," Buck said rather unhappily, "I know, Elaine." With that, Miss Scott smiled in satisfaction as she watched Buck begin to make his way out of the house (with the mouse & wheelchair still tucked away into the breast-pockets of his shirt & jacket). Hopefully, Buck would stay true to his word, & the mouse _wouldn't_ be joining him upon his return home.

_**End Of Part 2**_


	3. War Room “Mousehaps”, & Conclusion

**A MOUSE IN THE WAR ROOM!**

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a short, 3-part fanfiction piece for the "_Dr. Strangelove_" fandom, featuring General Buck Turgidson, Miss Scott, the War Room cast, & a very surprising (but nonetheless very adorable) guest character—the eponymous mouse of our story.

Buck Turgidson, Miss Scott, & all other characters, elements, & properties belonging to "_Dr. Strangelove_" © Stanley Kubrick & Columbia Pictures. I only claim ownership to the story itself, the mouse, & my invented first name for Miss Scott.

When you're finished reading the story, feel free to leave a review. I'll take anything from simple comments to constructive criticism, as long as they're not flames or written in a mean, rude, or overly-harsh manner.

And now that my copyright-&-disclaimer is finished, let the fanfiction begin! Happy reading!

* * *

Part 3:

War Room "Mousehaps", & Conclusion

The War Room of the United States Pentagon was alive with the faint, but ever-so-active, murmur of conversation emitting from the people seated at the large table in the center of the chamber. Among these people were President Merkin Muffley, Generals Sam Stains & Frank Faceman (both of the United States Army), Admiral John Cooper (of the United States Navy), & Dr. Braun Strangelove (the director of the Weapons & Research Development branch of the government). Suddenly, the conversation in the room came to a halt when the front door swung open with a noticeable creak, & none other than General Buck Turgidson came in to join them at the table, all decked out in his nicely-decorated, olive-green Air Force uniform.

"Sorry I'm late, everybody," Buck apologized as he took a seat in his special chair, "but I had a run-in with an angry bicyclist on the way over...There was a bit of a chase involved, so that took up a few minutes of my time."

"Oh, that's OK, General Turgidson," President Muffley said with the pleasant smile that usually appeared on his bespectacled face. "The meeting was just about to begin, anyway."

"Well, good," Buck said as he returned the smile & got comfortable in his seat. "At least, now, I know I haven't missed anything."

After President Muffley had checked to verify that all the Joint Chiefs & Cabinet members were present with him at the table, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, & said, "All right, folks, I suppose it's time for us to begin our big meeting...Oh, but before we discuss anything, I thought I should let you know that a maintenance crew is doing some work on the air-conditioning system, so there will be occasional bursts of sudden noise. Don't be too startled, OK?"

"OK," everyone at the table echoed with nods of their heads.

With that, President Muffley officially commenced the meeting, & the discussions on the new plans for a military deterrent began. Every attendee offered his ideas as to what the deterrent should be, & how it should work (Dr. Strangelove was the most eager participant in these conversations, as he was ultimately responsible for helping to realize these proposed plans, as well as supervising the construction & management of the deterrent in question), but when it was Buck's turn to offer his opinions on the matter, he suddenly stopped & gasped in alarm when he heard a loud _clang_ coming from the other side of the room, where the maintenance crew was working.

"Are you OK, General Turgidson?" President Muffley asked, looking at the current Chairman of the Joint Chiefs in concern.

"Yeah," Buck replied, as he smiled & took a moment to calm down from his earlier spook. "I'm fine, President Muffley." Then, with a run of his hand over his hair, Buck composed himself, & opened his mouth to speak...but instead of words, all that came out was laughter. Much to the surprise, shock, puzzlement, & even amusement of the Joint Chiefs & Cabinet members, Buck clutched at his sides & started rolling about in his seat with uncontrollable laughter; no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to stop himself from chuckling & cackling hysterically! Soon, some of the other people at the table started snickering & laughing, too, totally caught up in the infectious state of joy that was subtly spreading among them.

President Muffley, however, was not very amused by Buck's unprofessional behavior. "I enjoy a good laugh as much as the next person, General Turgidson," President Muffley said with a slight glower, "but this really isn't the time for fun & games. We're dealing with serious business here, so could you please _try_, at the very least,to stop laughing a little?"

"Sorry...President Muffley," Buck managed to blurt between incessant giggles & snorts, "but...I'm feeling...kinda...ticklish...right now!" For the next several minutes, Buck continued to laugh & linger in his state of merriment...but at one point, he suddenly stopped, & gasped in surprise when he saw the clothed (& panicked-looking) mouse scurrying out of the neckhole of his shirt, & down the length of the front of his jacket, but not without accidentally bumping the toy wheelchair that was hidden in Buck's coat-breast pocket (& causing said chair to fall out of its hiding place in the process). When that happened, both mouse & wheelchair fell onto the surface of the table with a small thud, & after shaking his head violently to & fro, the mouse opened his sunglass-covered eyes, regained his bearings, & looked around at his new surroundings with what appeared to be an expression of awe.

Then, the mouse did something that one wouldn't normally expect it to do, but what Buck had spent part of the last several days training him to do—he got up onto his hind-feet, walked toward the upturned wheelchair, picked it up, turned it over, & sat down in the plastic seat...before gripping the tiny wheels on either side of the chair, & maneuvering it across the table, much to the amazement of the Joint Chiefs & the Cabinet members (as well as Buck). At first, President Muffley was not too happy about the meeting being interrupted, but soon, he, too, came to enjoy the small diversion that was taking place; he had to admit, whatever it was that Buck had brought over was doing a pretty nifty trick.

"Well, I must say," President Muffley commented with a wide smile of childlike astonishment, "that's pretty neat, General Turgidson! Is that a mechanical toy?"

"Well," Buck said with a coy smile on his own, "not really...It's actually a..." Buck was suddenly cut off from finishing his sentence when the War Room was filled with another loud _clang_, which startled the mouse & sent him bolting out of the wheelchair; the poor little critter was so frightened by the noise, he completely forgot about his newly-gained ability to walk on two legs, & was scurrying madly across the big table on all fours, squeaking like a terrified mouseling who had heard or seen something scary. When they saw the "mechanical toy" coming to life & running around in front of them in a mad panic, the people in the War Room all gasped in terror & reacted rather negatively to the appearance of this unwelcome, unwanted visitor; even though the mouse was dressed in clothing & a wig, it still didn't hide the fact that he was of a species that had an unfortunate reputation for being "pests" or "vermin" in the eyes of most humans.

"Oh, my gosh," General Stains exclaimed when he realized who the miniature person (or, rather, _furson_) really was. "That's not a mechanical toy at all!"

"It's a _mouse!_" Admiral Cooper cried, pointing at the mouse with a forefinger as he put his other hand to the side of his face in shock.

"_A mouse in the War Room!!!_" President Muffley screamed, his own face now a mask of absolute terror. No sooner had the Commander-In-Chief uttered those infamous words, than he glared at the mouse (who was far more frightened of the humans, than they of him!) & pointed directly at him, giving only one order to the people who were in his presence: "Kill it! _Kill it!_ _Kill it right now!_"

The Joint Chiefs Of Staff & the Cabinet members were all-too-happy to oblige, & they immediately dove across the big table to try & make a catch for the mouse, who managed to elude their grasp & continued running across the table as fast as he could...before unwittingly falling off the edge & landing into the lap of General Faceman, who let out a loud shudder as he looked down at the mouse in wide-eyed terror, picked it up by the hem of his jacket, & threw it across the room. Seeing the mouse flying in his direction, Buck made a great leap & tried to catch the mouse in his hands...but he missed, & the mouse landed on his back with a thud, before skidding across the table like an out-of-control vehicle that had collided with a patch of black ice. When the mouse finally came to a stop, he immediately got up & began running again (this time, on _two_ legs). All the while, he desperately hoped that he wouldn't be caught by any of the humans, with the exception of Buck...& that other human sitting across from him—the one who was dressed in the same outfit that he was. He looked like a nice human, as he didn't even look interested in the prospect of joining the other people in their attempts to kill him on plain sight. Hopefully, that one human would keep him safe from harm, & maybe even try to bring him back over to Buck.

With this in mind, the mouse ran for the human in the wheelchair as fast as his little legs could carry him, doing his best to avoid the path of any hands, books, binders, shoes, or other objects that came down around the mouse in the not-so-friendly humans' attempts to kill him. Before he even knew it, the mouse soon found himself getting closer to the person that he hoped would be his savior. He was getting closer...closer...& even _closer!_ Then, just when he thought he had reached safe harbor at last, the mouse looked up in terror when he saw the shadowy form of a large shoe looming over him. The mouse quickened his pace, praying that he could evade the mighty hand that was moving the shoe, before it had a chance to bring the impromptu weapon down upon his furson, & squash him. For a moment, it seemed like it was all over for the mouse...until he let out a surprised squeak as he felt himself being taken into the gentle grasp of two human-sized hands—one of which was covered with a single black glove.

"What's this?" the human asked curiously in a German accent as he gently stroked the mouse on top of his wig-covered head with the fingers of one hand, while he continued to hold him in the other. "I think we have a little mouse in the War Room...How delightful!" The mouse looked up at the face of the human who'd caught him, then let out a squeak (more like a sigh) of relief when he discovered that it was none other than the very human he had hoped he would reach...Dr. Strangelove.

"Well," Strangelove said with a playful smile as he laid the mouse down into the open palm of his gloved hand & began looking him over inquisitively, "this is very strange, indeed. A mouse dressed in my clothes...with my hair...& my glasses?" Then, Strangelove looked down at the tiny wheelchair that was rolling toward him from the middle of the table, having been knocked out of its earlier position in the confusion & chaos that had taken place a few minutes ago. The doctor picked up the toy wheelchair with his other hand, & as he gazed at it, he smiled even more widely, & let out a chuckle of amusement, before looking back at the mouse who, save for his different facial features & the fur covering his body, could have passed for the splitting image of him.

"My goodness," Strangelove chortled, "I've never seen a mouse who looks & dresses just like me! It's a very unusual thing...although very interesting, too." He looked down a bit more closely at the mouse, & said cheerfully to him, "Hello! _Guten__ tag,_ _klein __Maus__._" The mouse looked up at Dr. Strangelove, returning his smile as he let out a squeak & waved his right arm in greeting...showing the human the pint-sized replica of the glove he wore on his right hand. This only served to increase Strangelove's amusement, of course, & he continued to chuckle as he surveyed the mouse, finding greater & greater enjoyment in the striking similarities between his & the animal's appearances. Whoever had clothed the mouse had taken great care to make him pass for a rodential version of Dr. Strangelove, right down to the sunglasses, wheelchair, & light-brown pompadour. To say the least, Strangelove was very impressed with that person's efforts in "rodentizing" him; he (or she) had done a very good job at it.

Strangelove continued to admire the mouse for a few more minutes, then carefully tucked him (& the toy wheelchair) inside the breast-pocket of his black jacket, before pushing his wheelchair back from the table & making his way over to Buck, who was sitting down in his chair, & looking awfully worried about what may have happened to his furry friend. That worried look, however, soon became a look of relief when he saw the mouse smiling at him as he peeked out of Strangelove's pocket. "Aw, gee," Buck said once he saw that the mouse was all right, "_there_ you are, little fella! I was getting pretty worried about you!"

"Not to worry, General Turgidson," Dr. Strangelove said as he carefully took the mouse & wheelchair out of his jacket-pocket, & handed them over to Buck. "Your little _freund _is in good hands."

Buck took the wheelchair, & stuffed it into his coat-breast pocket, before smiling at Dr. Strangelove & saying to him, "Thanks a bunch for your help, Doctor."

"It's my pleasure, General Turgidson," Strangelove replied with a pleasant expression on his face. "I have to admit, you did a very _wunderbar_ job at getting that mouse to look so much like me. Were he & I only of the same species, he could pass for my _splitting image!_" Then, chuckling to himself once again, Strangelove began to make his way back to his usual place at the table, &—seen just out of the corner of the doctor's eye—the little mouse smiled & waved "goodbye" to him. After that, Buck sat back down in his own chair, still holding the mouse in his hands as he watched the other members of the Cabinet & Joint Chiefs Of Staff clean up whatever mess they may have made earlier, before calmly returning to their seats...& proceeding to glare at Buck & the mouse.

President Muffley, too, glowered in irritation at the general & the "pet" he had brought over. "Well, General Turgidson," the President asked as he readjusted his glasses after sitting down, "what do you have to say for yourself?"

Buck hesitated, but then sighed & replied, "I probably should have told you in advance about the mouse...I-It's a long story, but, well, let's just say that the mouse had spent a few weeks in my care, & my lady-friend kinda...got tired of having him around, & she wanted me to get rid of him. I was just about to do that, when General Stains called me & told me about the conference, &...I...never got around to doing what Elaine asked of me, so...that's why the mouse is still here."

"Very well," President Muffley said. "I'll give everybody a few minutes to settle down from the earlier incident, & then, we can continue with our meeting. In the meantime, I think it really would be best if you took the opportunity to send the mouse on his way out."

When he heard Muffley's orders, Buck immediately felt a twinge of great emotional pain; his face fell, his heart sank, & his stomach dropped...but he knew deep down, all along, that the wonderful times he'd shared with the mouse had to come to an end at some point, & this, unfortunately, was it. He had long feared the day when he would have to bid "farewell" to the mouse & watch him walk out of his life forever, & now that that day had arrived, it felt even more painful to him than he had ever imagined. It would be a hard, hard thing for him to do...& yet, he knew it had to be done, all the same.

Sporting a sorrowful look on his face, Buck quietly trudged out of the War Room, & after passing through the open doorway, he went outside, onto the front lawn of the Pentagon. The sun was just beginning to set in the sky, tinting the heavens with hues of pink, purple, & lavender; the freshly-cut, green grass softly crunched under Buck's shoes as he stepped out further into the dwindling sunlight, & knelt down gently upon the ground, lowering the mouse (who was still resting in the palms of his open hands) down to the level of his feet. The mouse scampered out onto the grass, looking around in confusion, & when he turned to stare at Buck, his face fell when he saw the dejected expression on the general's own face.

"Well, little buddy," Buck told the mouse sadly, "this is it. I can't keep you with me anymore. You'll have to go find your own place to live now." Saying those very words made Buck choke up just a little, & with a sniffle, he took a handkerchief out of his jacket-lapel, & began dabbing at his moist eyes with it as he said tearfully, "But it pains me, because I really, _really_ hate to see you go...To be perfectly honest, you were one of the best friends I can ever recall having in my life...& I have a lot of really good friends..."—sniffle—"...but needless to say, I truly enjoyed hanging out with you & stuff...If Elaine didn't hate mice so much, I'd keep you as a pet, but..."—another sniffle—"...there's no use trying to change that, so...well, there you go..." After sniffling one more time, Buck blew his nose, then stuffed the handkerchief back into his lapel, & with misting eyes, he told the mouse in a voice croaked with emotion, "Go on, little mouse. Go on, & try to move on with your life, OK? Don't worry about me...Just leave, & be done with it."

With great reluctance at the prospect of having to part ways with the kind, benevolent human who had taken care of him & befriended him, the mouse slowly began to walk away...but, then, he suddenly came back to scurry onto Buck's shoe, & just like he had done not too long ago, he crawled up the length of the general's frame, before climbing onto his shoulder & giving him an affectionate cuddle, followed by a kiss on the cheek. Then, with a wave & a merry squeak of "goodbye", the mouse slid down off of Buck's body, & scampered off across the Pentagon lawn...off toward the wilderness that lay ahead somewhere on the horizon.

As he watched the mouse dash away from view—& out of his life—Buck put on a bittersweet smile, as tears of mixed emotion slid down his face. He still regretted having to bid "adieu" to his furry little friend...but then, as his left hand touched upon the tiny toy wheelchair that was still in his jacket-breast pocket, he knew that saying "goodbye" did not have to be _totally_ sad. If Buck always kept the toy wheelchair somewhere close by, the loss would be somewhat easier for him to bear over time...for as long as he had that wheelchair, the general also still had the mouse with him—in his heart, & in the fond memories that he held of those four weeks he spent with the little critter he had found in his attic on that rainy fall day...the mouse who had touched his spirit & soul in ways he had never thought possible.

When, after what seemed like a small eternity had passed, he finally rose to his feet & turned to make his way back into the War Room, Buck never forgot about the mouse he had befriended all those days ago. Even as Buck returned to the meeting—& the regular routine of his daily life—the memories of that mouse were still floating around somewhere in the back of his mind, filling him with a feeling of sweet nostalgia that he continues to feel to this day, every time he thinks about the adorable little mouse that came into his life on that fateful afternoon. And although Buck probably wouldn't like to publicly admit it, on account of "having an image to maintain", he still _does_ think about that mouse every now & again. Who wouldn't? After all, it's a well-known fact that the unusual encounters or events we experience in our lives leave a lasting impression on our inner selves...& General Buck Turgidson was certainly no exception to this rule.

THE END


End file.
